Read Online The Villain’s Daughter by Roberta Kray - Free Book Online Page B

walking around this area alone. The difference was that his head was full of horror stories about the East End - most of them historical - and hers full of nice, safe memories from her childhood. In truth, neither of them was right: he was too cautious and she was probably too careless.
    This evening, however, she couldn’t see any danger in what she was doing. There were plenty of other people, mainly commuters cutting through the square on their way home. Some were walking straight across, others stopping off for a drink at the pub on the corner. The Hare & Hounds was doing brisk business; as the door opened and closed, a brief snatch of the Stereophonics floated out across the air.
    As she waited her thoughts began to race. Michael, his mouth loosened by drink, had once hinted at another kind of trouble as regards her father but, when she had questioned him, had instantly backtracked, admitting only that Sean may have had some financial problems. Her dad, she knew, had been no angel - in his younger days he had spent time in jail for theft - but had cleaned up his act when he’d got married. Or had he? His criminal record was something else that her mother didn’t like talking about.
    Iris checked her watch again. It was bang on half past six. Where was Jenks? She had already decided that when he arrived she wouldn’t do anything stupid like going to a quiet place with him. Whatever he had to say, he could say to her in public. That’s if he ever turned up. She was starting to worry about that.
    And she wasn’t the only person who was worried. Although one of the girls had been met by her boyfriend, the other still remained. She was a blonde skinny teenager, only fifteen or sixteen, dressed in blue jeans, a denim jacket and the kind of cut-off slogan T-shirt that exposed her bare midriff to the elements. Her wide black-lined eyes briefly met Iris’s but then quickly veered away again. She placed a hand on her hip and tried to look casual. Iris could understand how she felt; being stood up was bad enough, having it publicly witnessed was a humiliation too far.
    Another ten minutes passed.
    By now Iris was starting to despair. She suspected the worst: Jenks wasn’t going to show. If she had any sense, she’d cut her losses and leave. But what if he’d been held up? What if he was on his way? The chance was slight, but it wasn’t impossible. She’d give him another five minutes.
    A lanky teenage boy appeared, offered a sullen muttered apology to the remaining girl and led her into the cinema. The girl glanced back over her shoulder as she went inside. Iris couldn’t tell if the look she gave her was pityingly sympathetic or simply gloating.
    She stamped her cold feet on the ground and raised her eyes to the sky. This was ridiculous. She should go. But still she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Instead she cut across the square and walked very slowly, almost at a snail’s pace, around its perimeter. The snow fell softly around her. She made several more circuits until her watch read seven. By now she knew it was pointless. Jenks wasn’t coming.
    Despondently, Iris wrapped her arms around her chest.
    It was time to give up. It was time to go home.

Chapter Nine
    Albert Jenks was backed up against the wall, his mottled hands raised in a shaky gesture of defence. His face was still stinging from the slaps. A steady trickle of blood flowed from his nose; he could taste it on his lips, on his tongue. His breath was coming in short, fast bursts and each exhalation increased the pain in his chest.
    ‘Yer . . . yer old man won’t be ’appy about this,’ he managed to splutter.
    Danny Street cocked his head and grinned. ‘Oh, no need to be worrying ’bout that, Weasel.’ He left a disconcerting pause. ‘Who do you think sent me?’
    An icy chill swept down Albert’s spine. He cowered in the corner, his eyes never leaving Street’s. ‘I don’t get it,’ he whined.
    ‘Lizzie can’t protect you no